thirty fourth

eye starved for color

settles on dried cherry blooms

and a spring not yet

thirty third

gray sky drips to the

forest floor; old pale brown leaves -

the only bright spot

thirty second

leafless vine holds fast,

embalmed onto concrete slab

winter, dressed in drab

thirty first

dark, wet vase-shaped trees

frozen in wild dance poses

monuments to now

thirtieth

days past the wild storm

mighty maple limb supine

great stag's felled antler

twenty ninth

lone dark winter tree

stands so still against white sky

holds its breath til spring

twenty eighth

out fly two black crows -

wings beating into the white -

birthed from tree's dark loins

twenty seventh

bare charcoal-drawn tree

stretched against winter's white sky

holds only stillness

twenty sixth

old clematis bends,

pressed slowly by the season's

steady, wet fingers

twenty fifth

ice now a puddle,

lone birch leaf meanders, lost:

where is my autumn?

twenty fourth haiku

yesterday's leaf pile

shiver white, low-angled light

the raking can wait

twenty third haiku

crescent bowl holds night

glowing horn of plenty moon

spilling forth winter

twenty second haiku

city birds roll up -

tarnished beads strung on phone line -

riding out the storm

twenty first haiku

as dark clouds roll in,

sooty snowballs line phone wires -

pigeons perched and tucked

twentieth haiku

corn stalk bows to frost

cold droplets shiver on glass

beckoning winter

nineteenth haiku

street lamp reflected

cold droplets shiver on glass

corn stalk bows to frost